


Can Never Wash Away Your Marks

by kuriositet



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe, Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/pseuds/kuriositet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the one thing he said he would never do when he was little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can Never Wash Away Your Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for no_tags 2013 with the prompt "Frank/Gerard, unfaithful."
> 
> Thanks to happilyappled for amazing beta ♥

It’s the one thing he said he would never do when he was little. Well, there may have been a few other things on that list, like smoking, because Mom did that and it made her breath smell gross, even though he found the scent left in her hair and clothes soothing sometimes. He was never getting tattoos either, because Nanna told him only criminals had tattoos and Frankie was no criminal. He couldn’t hurt a fly.

 

“Fuck, we need to stop, we need to stop, we should stop,” he mutters every time he gets some air, every time Gerard’s mouth slips away from his and leaves a gap between them. He clutches Gerard’s long, black hair in one fist; the collar of his shirt in the other and, when Gerard’s mouth starts trailing down Frank’s neck, he yanks him back up, slides his tongue in next to Gerard’s. Gerard’s hips thrust slightly against his, and Frank moans openly into Gerard’s mouth.

“Yeah, fuck.” Gerard pulls away, but only to lean back down, his mouth wet and hot like a furnace along Frank’s collarbone. His fingers feel rough against Frank’s skin where he’s pushing the collar of Frank’s shirt out of the way. Frank mutters something incoherent and gives Gerard’s hair a gentle tug. “I know. Fuck, I know, I know, Frank, but I…” He lifts his head and looks at Frank, looks into his eyes. His mouth is red and gorgeous, lips already a little swollen. “I don’t want to. I don’t wanna stop.”

His hands are on Frank’s face now, fingers warm and rough, but so, so gentle. So… just right. Gerard’s breath is hot on his face; it smells just a little bit sour from the wine they shared earlier, and his eyes… his eyes are everything Frank has been missing for the nearly six months that have passed since he last saw Gerard, since he last got to touch him. “I don’t want to stop,” he replies, because it’s the truth.

Gerard’s lips return to his, their hips press together, and Frank pushes off the wall Gerard’s got him pressed up against and turns them around. Gerard’s wearing a white button-up shirt; tie and waistcoat already discarded and thrown over a chair, and Frank wants it off, wants it so bad. He can’t wait to get to Gerard’s skin, to touch him, to feel him everywhere, and he kisses Gerard desperately while his fingers fumble with the tiny buttons. Gerard shrugs it off when he’s done and Frank ducks his head to mouth at Gerard’s chest, licking along his sternum and taking a tiny, hard nipple into his mouth. Gerard’s hips buck against Frank’s, and Frank slips one hand down to cup Gerard’s cock through his jeans while leaning over to suck the other nipple into his mouth, biting gently.

Gerard groans, and a slight thud tells Frank he just threw his head back against the wall. “Fucking love your mouth, Frank.” Frank smiles and moves back up over Gerard’s collarbone and throat.

“Tell me where you want it.” He adds more pressure with his hand and presses his nose against Gerard’s pulse, feels it racing.

“Fuck,” Gerard mutters. “On my cock.”

Frank lets out a soft moan and drops to his knees, immediately fumbling with the buckle of Gerard’s belt. He leaves it in, and moves on to the button and zipper next, and with one good tug on the jeans, he’s got them down around Gerard’s knees. Gerard had gone commando and his cock is standing right up now, hard and a little wet at the tip, curved just a little to the right. Frank can’t hold back anymore, and just leans forward, buries his face by the base of Gerard’s cock, breathing him in, letting the coarse hair of his pubes tickle his chin. He circles his thumb and index finger around Gerard’s cock, stroking lightly. 

Frank doesn’t know how long he stays like that, how long he lets himself just enjoy the familiar feeling of Gerard’s cock in his hand, or the way he smells, like sweat and sex and Gerard. When Gerard makes an impatient sound, Frank comes back to himself and turns his head and licks Gerard from base to tip, moaning at the taste. He pulls off and spits in the palm of his hand before wrapping it tightly around the base, and he looks up and meets Gerard’s eyes before he opens his mouth and sucks Gerard in all the way until his lips meets his hand. Gerard hits the back of his throat, and Frank moans.

 

It may sound strange, but Frank never had any intentions of meeting Gerard. They had been emailing each other for a while before Frank did that photo shoot in Los Angeles where Gerard just kept hanging around, mooching on their shitty coffee and stealing Frank’s attention. Frank almost can’t remember how Gerard first got in touch with him, but he thinks Gerard’s publisher might have recommended Frank for a book cover that never happened, and then they just kept talking via email anyway. 

Then Frank had a few shoots scheduled in L.A. the same week Gerard was coming down from Portland for a couple of meetings. The first day Gerard just hung around, looking over Frank’s shoulder, touching him innocently whenever he could, and it drove Frank crazy. When Frank could finally wrap it up, Gerard insisted they go out for some real coffee and they spent a good two hours in a diner, just talking, before coffee was extended to dinner. They went to one of Gerard’s favorite places and it was dark and cozy and Gerard kept touching Frank’s arm throughout the evening and Frank was almost giddy with it. He knew where it was going, he knew what the look in Gerard’s eyes meant, what the flutter in his gut was trying to tell him, but he didn’t stop it.

Frank’s hotel was within walking distance of the restaurant, so when dinner was extended to drinks, that’s where they went, walking side by side, not touching except for when their hands bumped together. Frank was drinking, they both were, but he wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t high. He had no excuse for not putting his foot down. They got a small table in a dark corner, and Gerard was openly touching Frank’s hand now, where it rested on the table, and leaned in close to Frank’s face to talk over the music. 

“It’s getting late,” Frank said after a while, not feeling tired as much as overwhelmed. He twisted his wedding band around his finger, as if to remind himself it was there and, when they got up to leave and entered the foyer, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Until it hit him that Gerard was walking him to the elevators, showing no signs of wanting to say goodbye. “Gerard, what are you—”

“What floor are you on?”

“Gerard, no. I can’t,” Frank said, twisting himself away from Gerard. “Please, I’m trying to do the right thing.” An elevator arrived just then and Frank stepped in, hoping Gerard wouldn’t follow him.

Gerard did follow him, though, and the doors closed behind him. “No, you’re not. There’s no such thing as trying to do the right thing. You either do or you don’t.”

“I want to do the right thing,” Frank insisted, fingering his ring again.

“Are you sure about that?” Gerard asked, and Frank shuddered because no, he wasn’t. “I think if you did, you would have said so hours ago.” Frank swallowed hard because Gerard’s eyes were beyond intense and, despite all the talk, Frank knew that if he asked Gerard again, he would leave. This would be it. 

“Five,” he whispered, and it took a moment for Gerard to get it, but then he reached out and pressed the button, and the elevator started moving.

“Frank,” Gerard whispered, but Frank didn’t look at him, not until Gerard cupped his cheek and the cold metal of Gerard’s own wedding band was pressed against Frank’s hot skin. 

“Why are you so okay with this? Does your family mean nothing to you?”

Gerard flinched, and then the elevator stopped on Frank’s floor. “I just didn’t see the point in fighting the inevitable.” 

They got out and Frank led the way to his room, trying not to think about what would happen when they got inside, trying not to think about his wife or his baby daughter that he was about to betray. He opened the door with the key card and tried not to think about how this was the one thing he promised himself when he was six years old, after uncle Peter left auntie Julia, that he would never do. The smoking wasn’t a big deal, he told himself when he was fourteen and bought his first pack to impress Nina Martin who was a senior at his school. Tattoos were commonplace when he was eighteen, they weren’t just for criminals. 

This time he was twenty-nine and had been married for four years, and he had nothing to say to justify the way he kissed Gerard back, there was no way to defend his decision or explain why he didn’t just stop. He couldn’t say for sure that he needed it, or that being with a guy was something he had missed since he met his wife. He just wanted it. He wanted Gerard.

When it was over, when Frank was curled up on the bed, naked and ashamed with his back toward Gerard, he whispered, “I can’t do this again. I love my wife. I love my daughter. I don’t want to hurt them.” Gerard scooted closer and molded his warm naked body against Frank’s back, kissing his shoulder.

“I love my son today just as much as I did yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and every day before that since my wife told me she was pregnant. This isn’t about them.” Gerard’s voice was soft and sincere, and Frank wanted to ask if he loved his wife the same, but he didn’t. It was probably better if he didn’t know. 

“I’ll be here for another week,” he said instead, and he could feel the way Gerard’s mouth curved in a smile against his neck.

“So will I.” Gerard started kissing his neck and he couldn’t even pretend it didn’t feel amazing, just like he couldn’t help but roll onto his back and let Gerard kiss his mouth instead. “I’ve wanted you since the first time you emailed me back about that cover you were gonna shoot for me, you know?”

“My idea about the old Halloween masks?” Frank grinned and Gerard nodded. “What happened to that book?”

“I still have it, and it’s almost finished, but I can’t really work on it without thinking about you.” Gerard’s voice was so honest, his face so open, that it was all Frank could do to reach up and kiss him again.

 

Three years later, they’re at another hotel, in another city, in another country—they’re even on another continent. Frank pushes himself back up off the floor, hands on Gerard’s hips to steady himself, and his mouth feels raw and swollen, used and perfect. He feels Gerard’s hands pushing his shirt up and raises his arms in the air, letting him tug it up over his head, and he’s glad, because the way Gerard’s hands feel on his skin is one of the best feelings he has ever known.

He kisses Gerard, tugging on his hair to pull him down, licking into his mouth like he can’t get enough, like he needs to taste every part of him. Gerard’s cock slides against his belly, slick with pre-come and Frank’s spit, and Frank needs to get his jeans off, needs Gerard’s hand on his dick, if only for a moment. He reaches down to undo them, but then Gerard stops kissing him and puts his hands on Frank’s wrists and says, “Wait.”

“What?” Frank whispers, panting a little, and looks down at their hands. He spots the pale strip of skin around the base of Gerard’s left hand ring finger, and the identical one on his own, and thinks about the ring he put in his wallet for safekeeping the moment he got to the hotel. He knows Gerard keeps his attached to his keys.

Gerard puts two fingers under Frank’s chin and tilts his head up and his eyes are surprisingly serious, considering they were just about to have sex. “Frank, I just, I wanted to tell you before, right away, I mean…”

“What? What is it?” Frank’s impatience is mixing with curiosity now and even a little worry when Gerard looks away.

“So and I have been talking about getting a divorce.” Gerard looks up again. “She told me right before I left that she was gonna contact her lawyer and that I should do the same.” 

Frank feels like all the air got sucked right out of the room, like a fish out of water, rattling in panic to try and get back in. He doesn’t know what to say. “Does she know?” is not what he means to say at all, but it comes out anyway. “I’m sorry, I mean. What’s gonna happen now? What about your son? Fuck, I’m so sorry, Gee.” He wraps himself around Gerard’s shoulders, and Gerard hugs him back, squeezing him tight.

“It’s not your fault, baby.” Frank finds that hard to believe, but doesn’t say anything. He just presses closer. “I just wanted you to know. The rest can wait ‘til later, okay?” Gerard pulls back, hands on Frank’s face, and Frank nods, letting Gerard kiss him again.

This time it’s Gerard’s hands going for Frank’s jeans, undoing them easily and shoving them down along with his underwear until Frank can kick them off and step out of them. Gerard tugs him close and Frank moans at the hot slide of their cocks and of Gerard’s smooth skin touching him all over. He wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck and, when he jumps up, Gerard catches him under his thighs.

“Fuck,” Frank groans, kissing the side of Gerard’s face as he wraps his legs tight around Gerard’s back, crossing his feet. Gerard steps over to the bed and the movement, no matter how slow and careful, is doing wonderful things where their cocks are pressed together. “Fuck Gerard, fuck.”

“Fuck,” Gerard agrees. “You’re heavier than you look.” Frank snorts, but lowers his feet back to the floor so that Gerard can lie down on the bed without breaking his back or something. Frank stands at the foot of the bed, watching as Gerard gets comfortable against the pillows. He slides a hand down his chest, down to his cock and gives himself a couple of firm strokes. Gerard makes a soft noise and Frank’s hand stills as he meets Gerard’s eyes. “Come here.”

Frank doesn’t need telling twice. The initial exchange of “We can’t do this” and “I know” that they go through every time is just a formality now, Frank thinks, because he knows that when they’re together, when he’s got Gerard within reach, there’s no saying no. Just like he knows that whenever he gets a job offer out of town that he has to stay the night for, the first thing he does is send an email with just a time and place, and then he waits for a response that will say either yes or no. He could end this by not sending that email the next time he gets booked away from home, and he has thought about it, but in the end he always sends it. He always asks. 

When Gerard asks, he always comes. If he can.

He crawls up over Gerard’s body slowly, kissing a trail up over his thigh and hip, dragging his tongue along his treasure trail and up the center of his chest. “I can’t believe it’s been almost six months…” he mutters, and sighs happily at the feel of Gerard’s hands in his hair. “Six months is too long for me to go without this, without having you.”

“You’re telling me,” Gerard whispers, pulling Frank close for a deep kiss. “There were days where I just wanted to get up and run out of my office and get on a plane to Newark. I missed you so much I couldn’t think. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t write.”

Frank kisses him again, shifting so he’s straddling Gerard’s waist, hands running all over Gerard’s chest like he can’t keep still. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you in December. I wish I had. So bad. Missed you so much that week.”

“It was your son’s first birthday, I get it. You couldn’t miss that. I missed Damien’s birthday once because of a cancelled flight. Four years later, I still feel bad.” Frank presses his face into Gerard’s neck and hums.

“That doesn’t change the fact that all other days that week I spent thinking about you, in a hotel somewhere, and how I should have been there too. In bed with you, kissing you, touching you.” Frank kisses his way to Gerard’s mouth as he speaks, moving his hands up and down his sides, and Gerard breathes in sharply.

“Every night I wished you were there too,” he whispers and, when Frank lifts his head to ask, “Yeah?” Gerard takes the chance to roll them over.

“Every night,” he answers, only pausing to kiss Frank, “I lay in bed and thought of all the things I wanted to do with you, and all the things I would do the next time I got the chance. Every night,” he says, with another pause, and another deep kiss. “As I lay in bed, touching myself, I tried to remember what you feel like, and what you taste like, and what you sound like and what you look like. The look in your eyes when you look at me.”

Frank looks at him right then, lifting his hands to Gerard’s face, pulling his hair out of the way.

“Just like that,” Gerard whispers and kisses him again.

Frank decides then that he has waited long enough. He kisses Gerard back with all he’s got, desperate to get more, to feel as much as he can, and thrusts his hips up against Gerard. “You should do one of those things now,” he says breathlessly when Gerard slithers down to suck a mark onto Frank’s collarbone. “That you thought of in December.”

Frank strokes his fingers over the nape of Gerard’s neck, digging his fingernails in when Gerard’s teeth graze his skin, and Gerard groans, pulling back for a second. “I wanna make love to you.” Frank’s hand goes still, and Gerard continues, lifting his head to look at Frank, “It’s all I could think about. And, I know you don’t want me to say it, but—”

Frank presses his fingertips over Gerard’s lips, silencing him. “I don’t care what you call it, babe. I just want it. Want you.” Gerard looks like that’s not really what he had meant, but he doesn’t correct Frank either.

“How do you want it?” he asks instead, and Frank doesn’t even have to think, he just needs. He can feel it so strongly now, that desperate need to have Gerard as close as he can get, to be able to feel him for days.

“On my knees, please. Need to really feel you, Gerard.” Gerard groans and kisses him hard again, before getting off the bed, leaving Frank to get comfortable while he gets lube and condoms from his suitcase. Frank never packs any, just in case the wrong person would find it. Sometimes he’ll get some if he passes by a drugstore on the way to the hotel or something, but he’s always careful not to put them in his suitcase where Lauren may find them when he gets home.

When Gerard returns, he gives Frank two slick fingers right away, and Frank chokes on a moan, pressing his face into a cool pillow. Gerard tells him how amazing he feels, how much he loves this, how much he has missed being with Frank like this, and Frank can’t speak, he can’t think. He can only slowly rock back onto Gerard’s fingers and wait for him to give Frank another one. It’s never enough, the fingers. Not when Frank knows what’s coming next, when he knows what it feels like when Gerard takes him, pushing in slow and steady, stretching him all the way open in the best possible way. Frank has never felt anything like it. Nothing in the world compares to sex with Gerard, to the feeling of having Gerard inside him, closer than any other human being has ever been to him, closer than his own wife even. 

Frank chokes out a moan at the thought and wriggles back against Gerard, begs for him to stop teasing; he can’t wait any longer. He needs Gerard now, damnit, right now. So badly.

It’s just as good as he remembers it, and better yet as Gerard drapes himself over his back, chest heaving as he pants against Frank’s neck, still pushing in so slowly. Every time they do this and it’s been a while, a couple of months or so, it’s almost like it’s the first time all over again. That’s how good it feels and that’s how Frank knows he’ll be feeling it for days. He’ll be feeling Gerard for days. 

Sometimes they only get one night’s overlap in the same city and that’s when Frank needs it the most. Those nights they don’t sleep. They stay up and Gerard fucks him again and again, leaving tiny little marks all over Frank, light bruises, invisible scratches; marks that won’t wash away, marks that Frank will savor and remember. This time however, they have two whole weeks, in fucking Milano of all places. Frank is here for some fashion shoots, Gerard is here to do press on an Italian release of one of his books. It’s the longest time they’ve had together without pause. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” Gerard moans, his cock all the way inside Frank. “How… you… I…”

“Yeah,” is all Frank can say, even as he pushes up on his elbows so he can breathe easier. “More.”

Gerard grips Frank’s hips hard enough to bruise and slides out before thrusting back in, a little harder, a little deeper. “More.” This time when Gerard pushes in again, Frank braces himself against the bed and shoves back, hard, and it’s getting closer. Closer to what he needs and closer to what he wants. Gerard changes the angle with the next thrust, hitting that spot inside Frank that makes his eyes roll back in his skull every time. He grabs the headboard this time and shoves back harder, braces himself for the point where Gerard stops holding back, when he starts pulling Frank’s hips back towards him.

Frank is close, he feels it coming for a long time, but he doesn’t think he’s anywhere near the edge until it’s right there, until Gerard hits his spot one more time and he’s just thrown into his orgasm. He’s coming so hard he can’t even breathe and Gerard’s still fucking into him, deep and hard, over and over and over again until he stays there, coming, biting Frank hard, just where his shoulder and neck meet.

Gerard stays inside him for as long as he can before pulling out gently and getting rid of the condom. He disappears for a moment and returns with a damp hand towel and cleans them both up before pulling Frank out of the wet spot and into his arms.

Frank never knows what to say afterwards, and is usually content and happy enough to lie there with his face pressed against Gerard’s throat and listen to Gerard tell him things, cute little random things that Frank can never remember right, but that always make him happy.

Tonight, however, Gerard is quiet, so Frank feels like he has to say something.

“No one has ever made me feel like this before, you know?” he whispers, drawing circles on Gerard’s chest with his fingers. “Even in college, when I had boyfriends, guys I thought I loved…” Frank trails off when he brushes a nipple and Gerard hitches in a breath. “Sex never felt like this. I’ve never been this close to another person. Not physically, at least.”

“What about emotionally?” Gerard asks, and Frank scoffs. He immediately thinks of his wife, of making love to her; he thinks of their children, the pure, natural result of their love. 

“I don’t know,” he replies, and Gerard sighs. They stay like that, in silence, for another few minutes until Frank decides he needs to be alone for a bit, and he needs to call his wife. She will have been expecting his call for hours now.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says, wincing as he climbs over Gerard to get out of bed.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks worriedly, reaching out a hand to steady him, but Frank just waves it off.

“I’m fine. Just a bit sore. I’m sure a shower will help.”

He puts on a warm, fluffy bathrobe after his shower and grabs his phone and smokes and goes out on the balcony. He lights up as he waits for someone to pick up, listening to the dull tone in his ear and the surprisingly distant swish of traffic. The balcony is facing the yard and it’s completely still and quiet. Then again, it’s well past midnight in the middle of the week, so why shouldn’t it be?

His wife picks up, sounding a little tired, and by the sound of Isobel’s impatient voice in the background, “Is it Daddy? Is it Daddy?” Frank can guess that they’ve been waiting to hear from him all day and it has been a very long day.

“Let me talk to her?” Frank asks, and his wife laughs and apparently hands the receiver to their ecstatic four year old. “Hey, Princess,” he says, suddenly aching with how much he misses her, how badly he wants to hold her. It seems like forever ago that he hugged her goodbye, because of his long flight and then equally long layover period, and then another flight.

“Hey Daddy,” she says, and Frank can imagine exactly what she looks like, with her brown eyes wide open and her dark curly hair braided in little pigtails, probably already in her pajamas for the night. Depending on which phone she’s on, she’s either standing by the hallway table, clutching the receiver in one hand and her teddy, which is a purple, stuffed seal in the other, or she’s probably curled up on the big sofa in the living room, like he’s seen her when she talks on the phone to her grandparents.

“How are you, sweetie? Are you being a good girl for Mommy?”

“We went to the zoo today!” she replies excitedly. “With Uncle James. He’s so funny, and there were pingwins!” Frank grins because she may not be able to pronounce it, but penguins have been her favorite animal since she saw Happy Feet two months ago. She tells him about all the different pingwins and that she named some of them, and that she asked Uncle James if she could have a pet pingwin and he had said he’d look into it for her but that she had to ask her daddy first. “Please Daddy? Please can I have a pingwin?”

“Honey,” Frank sighs. “I don’t really think you’re supposed to keep penguins as pets. They don’t belong in houses; they should be out in the open, in the ocean. So they can be happy.”

“Oh,” she says. “Like Happy Feet?”

“Yeah, exactly like Happy Feet.” He almost adds, “except for the singing and dancing,” but decides against it.

“Okay. Mommy says I should get ready for bed now. I think she wants to talk to you.”

“Okay sweetie, goodnight. Hey, will you go and kiss your brother goodnight for me too? Yeah? I love you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” she says, and then Frank listens as Lauren picks up the phone again.

“Please tell me you told her she can’t have a pet penguin,” she says, sounding tired. “I swear I could have killed James when he said he’d look into it, and then she refused to listen to me because he had said she should ask you.”

“Of course I told her no. I said that penguins are happier in the wild, like in Happy Feet.”

“That’s what _I_ said. God, she’s such a Daddy’s girl.” She still sounds tired, but also fond and happy. “Nico better be a real Mommy’s boy to even things out.”

“Yeah,” Frank says. “Did you have a good time at the zoo? It was a good idea. We haven’t been since Isobel was really little, have we?”

“Yeah, it was James’s idea actually. Isobel was moping around because you were gone, watching Happy Feet for the hundredth time when James dropped by and asked if she wanted to see some real penguins. You should have seen the look on her face.” Frank can imagine. “If you’re not careful, he might take your place as the most divine, amazing, all-knowing and handsome man in her life.” Frank laughs, doubting that’s gonna happen any time soon.

“What about the little guy then? Is he on his best behavior like I asked him to?”

“He loved the zoo, and slept like a baby on the ride home. I just put him down actually, and I hope he’s going to sleep through the night.” She goes quiet for a moment before asking, “What about you? Isn’t it seriously in the middle of the night in Italy right now?”

“Yeah,” Frank says, laughing a little. Then he lies. “It’s just been a really long day, you know? I went out for dinner earlier and had a few drinks, and when I got back to my room I just crashed. I just woke up and called you right away.” Frank is glad he doesn’t have to look her in the eye right now, because he’s sure she’d see right through him.

“Okay, well, you go back to bed then. I gotta make sure Isobel brushed her teeth properly. And then get some sleep myself. The zoo is exhausting, seriously.”

“I believe you. Sweet dreams, honey. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Frank hangs up and relights his smoke which he had completely forgotten about, and looks up at the starry sky. It’s cold outside; it’s only February after all, but he doesn’t want to go back inside yet, even if his toes are going numb. He stubs his cigarette out in an old ashtray when it’s down to the filter, but still doesn’t go inside; the moon comes out from behind a cloud and it isn’t full, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. 

Gerard joins him a few minutes later, wrapping around Frank’s back like a human blanket. A blanket that kisses up and down his neck and whispers beautiful things into Frank’s hair. “We should go inside. You’re gonna catch a cold out here, if you haven’t already,” Gerard says, rubbing his hands up and down Frank’s sides. 

Frank nods, but makes no move to actually go inside. “Frankie, are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I miss my kids,” Frank replies, and Gerard sighs and holds him tighter, pressing his cheek against the side of Frank’s neck. Frank tells him about Isobel’s recent obsession with penguins and how it had never occurred to him to take her to the zoo. “I should have taken them to the zoo. Not my best friend.”

“I know, baby, but you’ll have lots of chances to take them to the zoo and the park and to museums and to see movies in the future. When Nico is old enough to remember it too.” Frank lets Gerard turn him around and leans into Gerard’s hand on his cheek. “And it’s your job that brought you here, away from home. Your job that pays the bills and makes sure that your family is safe and healthy.”

“It’s not just my job, though,” Frank says, lifting his hands to Gerard’s face, but moving them back down to tug at the fabric of the old t-shirt Gerard is wearing. “I never took jobs abroad _before._ Hell, I even refused to go out of state for jobs more than a couple times a year.” It’s more honest than Frank usually gets, with himself or with other people, and he’s sure Gerard knows that.

Gerard nods, leading the way, and Frank follows him, shivering, and gets into bed right away, shrugging out of the bathrobe, and Gerard joins him a beat later, already shedding the ratty old clothes he had put on after the shower. Frank feels cold everywhere Gerard touches him at first, but they warm up pretty fast, and Frank thinks he’s going to fall asleep all warm and curled up with Gerard as he is when Gerard starts talking again.

“I’m not here because of my job either,” he says. “I know that, and So knows that. She’s known for a while, almost a year I think.” Frank shudders because the idea of Lauren finding out is enough to paralyze him with fear. “I think she kept it to herself at first because of Damien. Then she brought up the divorce for the first time, just after I saw you last, and all she wants is to make it as easy as possible for him.”

“That’s good,” Frank whispers. He strokes a hand over Gerard’s stomach and chest and pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “If anything ever changes between me and Lauren, the last persons I want to see suffer are Isobel and Nico. If I hurt them, I don’t know if I could live with myself.”

“Do you think it will?” Gerard asks, and Frank is unsure of what he means for a moment. “Do you think things will ever change between you and Lauren?”

Frank wants to say no, and almost does so without even thinking. He loves Lauren, he has loved her almost since the first time he saw her and noticed how beautiful she was when she smiled. He has loved her more and more with every year they’ve been together. The best days of his life have been when she agreed to be his wife and when she first gave him the most beautiful daughter he could ever have imagined, and then a son that’s nothing short of a miracle. A tiny voice in his head reminds him that meeting Gerard was also one of the best days of his life, and how he felt when he first met Gerard wasn’t that far off from how he felt when he met Lauren.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. He’s glad he’s not looking Gerard in the eye right now; it would make it even harder to think and to be honest. He remembers the extremely uncomfortable conversation they had almost two years ago, when he had told Gerard that Lauren was pregnant again, and how odd he had found it that Gerard didn’t seem truly happy for him although Frank was the happiest he had ever been. That’s when he knew for sure Gerard didn’t love his wife anymore. 

“Frank,” Gerard says, and then abruptly sits up, pulling Frank with him, and shifts until they are facing each other properly. They’ve been lying in the dark for long enough that Frank’s eyes have adjusted, and Gerard’s pale skin makes it even easier to make out his face. “Frankie, baby,” he says again, reaching out to touch Frank’s cheek.

“Gee, you don’t have to—”

“It’s been three years, Frank. We can’t keep pretending it’s just about sex, that it’s something we just want. If we do that, we’re lying to ourselves and each other just as much as to everyone else.” Frank doesn’t say anything, but he’s pleading, begging, with his eyes for Gerard to stop. “I know you don’t wanna talk about it. You hate it if I as much as mention it.”

“Baby, please,” Frank whispers, tearing his eyes from Gerard’s for just a second before forcing himself to look again. “I don’t… I don’t hate it,” he says, and Gerard sighs and pauses before speaking again.

“I love you, Frank. Every time I get an email from you, I drop everything I’m doing and just call my publicist, my agent and anyone I can think of who could possibly get me to be wherever you are going to be at the same time, if only for a couple of hours. Because seeing you for those two hours would make the next three months so much easier to bear. Because I love you.” Gerard’s eyes look wet and shiny, and Frank wants to kiss him, so he does, deep and desperate because he knows exactly what Gerard means, how it feels; how it hurts when Gerard is too far away and it’s been too long since they’ve had any contact at all.

“I know you love your wife,” Gerard says quietly when Frank comes up for air. “I know you have an amazing family, and I could never ask you to leave them. I’m not asking you to. I can share, if you let me.” Gerard smiles a little, but it looks both pained and strained, Frank thinks. 

“But you need to say it.” Gerard raises his voice again. “You have to admit it, if not to me, then to yourself. Otherwise, your wife won’t be the only one you’re lying to.”

Frank can’t say it. At least not right now. He leans forward, burying his face in Gerard’s neck and letting Gerard’s arms come up around his shoulders, holding him tight.

Ever since this started, the knowledge that his family, his wife, is still his number one is what’s kept him going. Being with Gerard hasn’t changed that, they’re completely unrelated things. At least they were. 

Gerard lays them down on the bed again, a hand on the back of Frank’s neck keeping his head tucked under his chin. “You should go to sleep,” Gerard starts to say, but Frank interrupts him.

“What if I can’t say it? What if I just… don’t?” Gerard shudders at the question.

“Then this would have to be over. I can’t keep doing this if you don’t give me something back, Frank.” Frank throws an arm over Gerard’s waist, as if to hold him there, as if Gerard was to get up and leave right this second. “I don’t want it to be over, but I don’t have a choice. It’s like I’m floating in the ocean and if you don’t throw me a fucking life vest or a line to hold on to, then a wave is gonna wash over me and pull me down into the depths and I’ll disappear. You’d never see me again.”

Frank kisses his neck; he doesn’t want Gerard to disappear. “I hate the ocean. Use another metaphor. You’re a writer, make up another one,” he jokes, but Gerard just goes on,

“If you won’t save me, Frank, I’ll have to get on another boat. And I’ll be gone anyway.”

“I just need some more time,” Frank whispers. “We have time, right?”

“You have Milano.” That’s not much time at all, Frank thinks. “Let’s sleep now, okay?”

“Okay,” Frank whispers, but he’s not sure it will be. He’s not sure two weeks will be enough.


End file.
